


I Love Streaming

by CaseNumber183a



Category: Impractical Jokers
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Beards (Facial Hair), Best Friends, Boys In Love, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:21:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29232939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaseNumber183a/pseuds/CaseNumber183a
Summary: Invited over to stream Sal and his favorite show, Q arrives early happens upon his best friend in a compromising position. As he turns to leave and pretend he never saw and heard what he *definitely* saw and heard, he hears a string of erotic nonsense punctuated by his name.“My God, you are a fucking sight, Sally boy..."
Relationships: Brian "Q" Quinn & Sal Vulcano, Brian "Q" Quinn/Sal Vulcano
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	I Love Streaming

_Dude, new episodes today! You game?_ \- 6:51PM From: Sally Boy

  
 _WHAT? Shit yea._ -6:52PM From: Q

  
 _Ambrosino’s?_ -6:54PM From: Sally Boy

  
 _You know it. Get that hot cherry pepper, bitch. Be there soon._ -6:58PM From: Q

This enlightened and wonderful age of streaming instant-binge shows is utterly magical. Especially when your most favorite show’s latest season was just released…

  
Double especially when your most favorite show is also your best friend’s most favorite show and the latest season was just released…

  
Even more especially when your most favorite show is your best friend’s most favorite show and the latest season was just released, so you have another reason to invite him over and binge as many episodes as you can before you both pass out.

  
Yes, this is indeed a magical age. Sal liked to enjoy the little things in life, after all.

* * *

Sal grinned madly as he closed Q’s text message. In no time at all, he’d ordered one hot cherry pepper pizza, a supreme pizza with extra sauce, and had loaded an extra six-pack of beer into the fridge to chill. They’d be plenty cold by the time he and Q got to drinking. Heck, it usually took about 20 minutes to walk from Q’s to Sal’s. He had plenty of time. He had plenty of time to… Well, to take care of something. You know, something that he sometimes couldn’t control around Q, specifically.

  
Sal put his hands on his hips and did a quick once-over the living room. With a deep sigh, he shook his head. He really had to find a better solution to navigating his relationship with Q. He headed through the short hallway to his room, to his bed, shedding his cardigan and stripping out of his t-shirt. Before sitting on the side of the bed, he shimmied himself out of his jeans, folding them neatly before kicking his boxers to the side.

  
By the time he laid back on his pillows, he was already half hard. He rolled his eyes. He knew he was being ridiculous, but he had to do something to keep his libido in check before Q got there. He’d had to hide _way_ too many awkward boners around Q over time. It wasn’t Q’s fault he was so god damn alluring, so sexy, so utterly fucking _intense._ Damn, those arms. That impish smile. That unruly fucking scruff, and that goddamn rugged accent.

  
Apparently, Sal could go from half-hard to painfully fucking erect in less than 5 seconds nowadays.

  
He raised his hips and wiggled his shoulders down into the bed. Hands on his thighs, he squeezed, digging his fingers into the meat there, beginning his fantasy.

* * *

Q smiled to himself. He’d been chomping at the bit for new episodes. So much so, he was grinning like a fool while he hustled out of the comic book shop and down the street. He couldn’t wait to hunker down into Sal’s couch and kick back; feel the plush warmth of the worn fabric, the heat of his Sal settled next to him. He couldn’t wait to crack open a cold beer and see what happened next in the series; to hear Sal’s hearty chuckles, his surprised gasps, and to watch him cringe, gripping a throw pillow tight in the face of suspense, or fear, or action, or… or really anything even slightly more exciting than mild tedium. Q rolled his eyes. His best friend was such a fussbudget. He’d never tire of Sal’s antics.

  
Q continued his distracted strut down the sidewalk, glad he’d decided to spend the evening picking over comic books. His favorite shop was only about five blocks North of Sal’s place, a brisk six minute walk at most.

  
He knocked twice and peeked in the glass pane. “Yo, Sally Boy!”

  
 _Knock. Knock._ “Open up, bud.”

  
He tried the doorknob and the door creaked opennot unusual since he’d been expected. After he kicked his shoes off at the door so Sal didn’t kill him, He nonchalantly tossed his bag of comics onto the coffee table and headed towards the kitchen.

  
“Hey, Sal, I’mma grab a beer, you want one?” He paused, waiting for a reply. He heard Sal say something unintelligible, so he grabbed two, popped them open, and set them deliberately on the coasters Sal insisted be used. He grinned as he went to flop comfortably into what he considered _his_ corner of the couch…

  
“B-briannn…” Q’s head snapped towards the hallway immediately, eyes shifting as he waited for whatever Sal was going to say next. When he didn’t hear anything, he headed towards the hallway, looking into each room as he passed.

  
“Sal?”

  
He stopped cold when he heard a deep moan followed by a series of drawn out grunts.

  
“Fuck yeah… oh God, yes…”

  
Q froze, ice running through his veins, followed by a blast wave of fire, and lust, and need, and… guilt? Shame? He hadn’t processed it enough to know what he was feeling; he did, however, know what was going on in that room. He knew damn well what was going on. He also knew that, despite the embers of desire smoldering hotter than the blast, he _shouldn’t_ be stealing pleasure from this moment.

  
In a split second he pivoted, turning to slink away like he’d never been there; to give his friend the privacy such an act required, and to never, ever, ever, mention it, _ever_ , like proper bros.

  
He took a step away, just one, before he felt his world explode, his heartbeat quadrupling its speed, threatening to send him into cardiac arrest.

  
“Oh, ffff-,” a sharp intake, a hiss, “B-brian. Oh God, I’m so fucking close, Q!”

  
His brain short-circuited. Sal had utterly wrecked him in the course of one short sentence. With the rolling blackout taking place in Q’s head, his legs carried him forward, carried him _towards_ the bedroom; towards the salacious moans of his best friend, towards the heady gasps and his name being ground out like a benediction.

  
In the doorway, he feverishly unbuttoned his blue plaid shirt, staring, eyes sharp and glassy. “My God, you are a fucking sight, Sally boy.”

  
Sal jolted into awareness, shocked and humiliated. He yanked on his sheets in an effort to cover himself. “It’s not… I’m not…!” Sal stammered, completely side-blinded.

  
Q, running on raw desire and very little appropriate blood flow, shed his shirt completely as he moved towards the foot of Sal’s bed. _God, he’s beautiful. All that warm, bronze skin…_

  
He placed his hands on the foot of the bed, Sal still stammering and trying to cover himself. No matter, he pushed forward, crawling.

  
Sal gaped. This could not be happening. His fantasies had become far too real. This really couldn’t be healthy.

  
Q was crawling… _crawling_ up his bed, up his body, murmuring all the while. “So beautiful,” a kiss to his muscled calf. “God, look at you,” a caress to his thigh. Sal fisted the sheets on either side of him, laying bare, hard, and still dazed. Q kept moving, slithering up the length of Sal’s body, pausing to flick his tongue over a pert nipple. Sal’s entire body shivered in delight, burning need coursing across his skin.

  
Q stopped. Finally, at long, long last, he stopped and stared, hands on either side of Sal’s head, hoovering, waiting. He stared straight into Sal’s gleaming eyes, green irises all but covered by blown, black pupils.

  
“Q, I… I--,” Sal stammered and gave up. He lunged forward, closing the gap between himself and his best friend. It was sudden, demanding, raw, and utterly fucking _perfect_.

* * *


End file.
